


Alone Together

by radishleaf



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff and Angst, it is mostly compliant however lol, it slightly diverges due to some liberties taken for the sake of expansion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 15:45:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17831462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radishleaf/pseuds/radishleaf
Summary: Beruka and Niles, two desolate souls from the slums, find common ground and more together.





	Alone Together

**Author's Note:**

> what a cheesy title...........
> 
> anyway! 
> 
> my knowledge of fe is mostly relegated to fe: conquest and what i've skimmed from various wiki pages. nevertheless, i fell for nilruka's support convos, and just had to write a fic for my new otp. thus, this fic is a love letter to the fandom i now consider a new favorite as i expand to play more games. 
> 
> as stated in the tags, this is mostly canon-compliant, but i took some liberties with the story since i am really just going off nilruka's support convos and what i read on their wiki pages. i apologize if they come off as ooc, but of all things, niles dropping the goading act and warming up to beruka was my absolute favorite thing. so i played up that softness a bit. 
> 
> small caveat: the italicized text is taken directly from their s support. i can't take credit for it, despite being some of my favorite lines lol
> 
> as always, kindly disregard any grammatical errors, punctuation mistakes, and the like. i tried to be thorough. enjooooy.
> 
> for links to my tumblr, twitter, and other exterior sources for contact or requests, please refer to here: [plonk](https://radishleaf.carrd.co/).

The moon hung low in the sky, casting oblong shadows across the expanse of the mansion’s garden. Niles clung to the walls, feet rising no more than an inch as he scuttled through the shadows, weary of guards patrolling the perimeter. The silver statue pressed to his thudding chest caught the moonlight with each shift or slight movement, causing the boy to stop and carefully submerse himself back into the darkness.

They were petty thieves, the lot of them, but Niles eked out some sense of family among them. The band took him in when he thought himself forgotten by the world; the fate of any abandoned child in the slums. Niles wanted to earn his keep, and in some haphazard way, their trust however possible. Volunteering for a break-in solo was ill-advised—dismissed for the eagerness of a young child—but Niles remained adamant.

“Just let me do it!” he cried, shaking his fists. His exclamation quelled the band to silence; only the sound of the campfire crackling wildly filling the air. All eyes were trained on him, glistening in the firelight. Niles almost choked on his words, embarrassed. Upon mentally rebuking himself for his childishness, however, he ground out, “You have to at least let me try!”

The debriefing before the burglary instructed him to meet the others just beyond the forest edge on the eastern side of the mansion. Niles squinted his singular eye, estimating just how far he’d have to run to finally be free of the perimeter.

 _Surveillance here is thin,_ he thought, casting his gaze across the twisting path. Not a body was in sight, though the faraway glow of lanterns lined the garden sides. _If I just make a break for it, I should be okay_.

His getaway wouldn’t be a clean one; the remnants of a smashed window and muddy footprints upon the mansion’s immaculate carpeting were clear evidence of a break-in. Yet, by the time they would be discovered, Niles and the others would be long gone. It was this lone thought that boosted the boy with confidence, cracking an entertained smile on his youthful features as he broke out into a run.

His feet beat against the ground with restless abandon; Niles’s surge of energy leaving him once he reached the limits of the forest. His smile dropped from his face as he glanced about and realized he was alone. Not a single familiar face from the band of thieves was in sight, provoking a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. Niles continued to search about frantically, a desire to call out each of their names choked back before any guards happened to hear him.

The rustle of underbrush to Niles’s right caused him to jerk his head about, but any attempt to ready himself for an attack was dashed aside when large hands scooped him up. They gripped onto his small form, prying the silver statue from his trembling hands, before suddenly dumping him back to the ground. Niles prepared a scream, but the light of a torch illuminated a familiar face, then another, then another, then another, before he was completely surrounded by, as he now perceived, family.

The boy was almost brought to tears, mirth bouncing him back on his feet. With that smile spreading on his face again, Niles cried, “I told you I would get it!”

He was revered with a round of hurrahs and applause. A burly hand clamped on the crown of his head and tussled his locks. Niles would’ve been inclined to slap it away, but he let it remain; enjoying praise that, even among the band, was rare.

“Good, good!” the man said through deep, hearty chortles. “You did good, Niles!”

 

* * *

 

The man circled like a cat observing prey, his steps careful and methodical. Beruka challenged his subtle intimidation with her own; remaining vigilant and not once taking her eyes off him. Not once would she chance the threat of what was to come if she did. This man—her mentor—lacked all of the gentleness or finesse of a father, but was the closest thing she had to a parent. What he lacked in love, he made up for in guidance. He taught her to how live—to _survive_ —and to Beruka, that was enough.

Case in point: Their trainings were never repetitive. Her mentor was as unpredictable as the slums were chaotic—two sides of the same coin when it came to earning one’s keep among the great unwashed. He kept Beruka on her toes, not once letting her rest.  The only detail that remained the same to the other trainings was that all of Beruka’s senses were on edge and alert. All she had to do was await her mentor’s next move.

The clatter of a dagger at her feet was met with a single exchanged glance from the weapon to the man. He motioned to it, saying, “Take it.”

Beruka’s steely gaze never once left her mentor as she bent forward and retrieved the dagger. The weight of it was familiar; heavy in her tiny, scarred hands. It anchored her with expectation despite knowing what was to come.

The man cocked his head to a training dummy propped up to the furthermost wall. “You know what to do,” he said before folding arms across him chest, eyes narrowing to observe Beruka’s next action.

Beruka reacted not a second later, shoeless feet slapping against the cold stone of the basement as she rushed to the dummy. A bounding leap had her throwing her weight on it, legs clamping about the middle, as the knife once clenched between her teeth met her hand. With one swift jerk, the dagger cut a clean line across what would otherwise be a throat. Sand burst from the parted seams, spilling to the floor and all over the rags Beruka wore for clothes.

Lowering herself to the floor, Beruka turned fully to her mentor, expectant. He obliged her, closing the distance to take in her handiwork. Beruka waited patiently for approval of her results, which came in a firm, albeit emotionless, “Good.”

Her reward, as always, was a dirtied loaf of bread dropped to her feet. Beruka scooped it up, turned on her heel, and left wordlessly. Her consumption of any foodstuff from her mentor always brought sweat, pain, from the poison he laced in its make. Yet, the discomfort of a painful night was a small sacrifice in comparison to days layered into days of a deep, hollowing hunger that devoured her insides. This night, like previous nights and nights to come, was good enough.

 

* * *

 

The cold cut into her arms like a knife, even if she didn’t know the pain of one used against her. The fresh stain of blood washed clean from her hands, dying the water of the bucket a deep, deep crimson. Beruka considered her palms, watching the run of red down them, before wiping them clean on her dress.

Since her first kill, her following assassination requests streamed in; one after the other, after the other, after the other. Her mentor would dole out the details, hand her a dagger, and leave her to her own devices. Each and every time, Beruka would complete her task, and move onto the next.

If this was the way to earn her daily bread, Beruka would do it without fail.

The well was only a breadth’s walk away from ‘home’, but Beruka was barely two steps into her trek before she was confronted by a younger girl. She clamped a hand on Beruka’s wrist and tugged her along, crying, “Hey! Come play with me!”

At once, Beruka’s eyes widened to the whites as she jerked her arm back, out of the girl’s hold. Her hand snapped back to the dagger hidden under the fold of her dress, tightening on the grip. She glared at the girl, grounding herself should she attack, but the girl only stood there, head tilted curiously.

“Hey, is something wrong?”

Beruka carefully took in the situation—eyes scanning every roof, nook, and cranny; counting every figure that appeared; considering every escape route possible. Yet, when the threat of danger hung in the air only on her end, Beruka reflexively calmed, and released her fingers from the dagger.

Immediately, she asked, “Why?”

The girl blinked, taken aback. “Because?” she said. “It’s what you do! You play! Haven’t you ever played before?”

Without missing a beat, Beruka said, “No.”

The girl’s mouth dropped agape before fixing into a frown. “Then, right now!” she exclaimed. “We’re going to play _right now_ , let’s go!”

“Ah—”

Barely a word left Beruka’s lips as the girl’s hand clamped on her arm again, dragging her along. Following the girl’s lead appeared to be her only option in this situation, though she remained vigilant and careful. Her mentor had advised against killing innocents; even though the slums swarmed with the lowest of the low, justice was still a notion. Her life may become a target if she took the wrong life at the wrong time.

Beruka was led into a back alley bare of any presence. The scatter of makeshift toys, crudely drawn pictures, and candy wrappers, however, meant it was a frequent haunt for children like the girl. Beruka’s arm dropped to her side when the girl released her and rushed forward, plucking a bobble-headed doll from the ground.

She pushed it into Beruka’s chest, saying, “Here, this is your baby!”

Beruka blinked, taking it from her. “What am supposed to do with this?” she asked.

“Take care of it,” the girl said. “It’s your baby. We’re playing house!”

Beruka hummed in confirmation, but remained where she stood, turning the doll about it her hands.  It was tearing at the seams, cotton spilling from various points of its make. The face—three streaks of charcoal to represent eyes and a mouth—smeared away when Beruka ran her thumb over it. If the doll was meant to represent an infant, Beruka thought, it failed spectacularly.

“C’mon, do something!” the girl said, mixing invisible stew in a cracked pot. “You have to care for your baby, you’re her mama!”

“I don’t know how to care for a baby,” Beruka said.

The girl rolled her eyes. She snatched the doll from Beruka and hugged it to the crook of her neck, patting its back. “You have to burp her,” she said. “And feed her, change her diaper, sing to her. That’s what a mama does. Didn’t your mama do that?”

“I don’t have a mother,” Beruka said.

The girl’s lips drew to a small O. “You’re just like him,” she said. Before Beruka could inquire who, the girl jerked her head to the entrance of the alley, and called, “Niles!”

Beruka blinked when she became aware of a pale head of hair peeking from the corner of the alley. She frowned, at once mentally rebuking herself for her lack of caution. She trusted her skills as an assassin—after all, her mentor trusted her to complete requests—but was she really so distracted?

 _Unless, there’s something different about him_ , she thought.

Niles squawked out a note upon being noticed. He turned to run, but the girl’s cutting cry of, “Wait!” halted him in his tracks. Backpedaling, he inclined his head back into the alley. “What?” he asked stiffly.

“Come play with us!” the girl said. “We’re playing house!”

“Don’t want to.”

“ _C’mooon_ , Niles! We need a papa!” The girl cocked her head to Beruka. “She’s the mama.”

Niles folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t want to be the papa.” His eyes drifted to Beruka, eying her from head to toe twice. “Especially not to her.”

The girl puffed her cheeks out. “Niles, stop being stubborn,” she said. “Come play with us.”

“I said I don’t want to.”

Beruka’s eyes flicked between the two of them as their disagreement turned into petty bickering. Figuring she held some of the blame, since the boy remained adamant _not_ to play with Beruka, she interjected with, “It’s okay.”

“Huh?” the girl blinked.

Beruka looked to Niles. “He doesn’t have to be the father,” she said. “He’s no good.”

Beruka felt her argument justified; the boy was loud, brash, with a hair-trigger temper. The previous conversation was all the evidence she needed to determine thus. Even more so when Niles was clearly offended by her remark.

Tanned hands balled into fists as he spat out a vast array of curses at Beruka. Calmly, she considered him, and said, “You’re awful. I would never marry someone like you.”

Niles’s face reddened to the temples, anger bubbling to the point his hackles stiffened ramrod straight. Snapping up a large stone at his feet, he suddenly pitched it at Beruka, shouting, “Shut up, you _bitch!_ ”

The stone cracked against Beruka’s forehead, just above her brow, knocking her sensibilities asunder. Realizing what he’d just done, Niles panicked, and shot away from the alley. The girl danced on her feet, unsure whether to chase after Niles or check on Beruka. She opted for the urgency of the latter, clapping hands on Beruka’s shoulders to peer at her drooping head.

“H-hey, are you okay?” the girl asked.

Beruka registered wetness first; a thick, sticky stream that dribbled down her temple and to the floor. The pain that came after was a slow throb barely registered against the looming force of something else—an implacable feeling Beruka couldn’t understand. It was as if a switch had been flipped on her in brain, sending a shock down every capillary and vein. It made her insides tremble, her heart beat with an untapped reservoir of fury.

_W-what… is this?_

The girl gasped, jerking Beruka out of her thoughts when she grabbed her. “You’re bleeding!” she said. “That jerk, Niles! I’ll give him a piece of my mind later. Let’s go clean you up, yea?”

Beruka could only nod at her as she was led along, confounded by the previous sensation that overcame her.

 

* * *

 

Lady Camilla had been good to her. Not only had she spared Beruka’s life after once being a threat to hers, but she made an almost unthinkable offer: To be her retainer. How could she turn the eldest princess of Nohr down? The kindness that followed came like clockwork; she was housed and fed in rooms she could only dream of and was partnered with another retainer, Selena, who treated her well.

Lady Camilla was even kind enough to pass on old armor for her to wear. Beruka dutifully donned it even when off duty, the fitted compress of metal against her form a constant reminder of what her life was now. She was a soul of the slums, completely forgotten by society. It was rare for one of her own to move up from whence they came, but with opportunity came change, and Beruka was adamant to serve Lady Camilla and the other Nohrian royals to the best of her ability.

Rumor had spread across the castle grounds of a recent break-in. While a common enough happenstance (most thieves were apprehended before they even _considered_ a crime), not only had this ragtag group of criminals made it rather far, they even abandoned one of their own. It was what the rumor spoke of after that made it ‘juicy’: This thief was offered a position as a retainer by Lord Leo. To no surprise, he accepted. While it was well and good to guarantee more protection to the Nohrian royals, what piqued Beruka’s interest most was this thief was once another lost soul from the slums.

 _What a coincidence it is_ , Beruka thought, _that another one of us happened to move up in the world._

With Lady Camilla busy with her royal duties and Selena off to the market, Beruka only had the company of herself and her thoughts to pass the time until either of them returned. She opted for her usual spot; a small, shaded nook on the eastern side of the castle, away from the likes of other people.

The crisp autumn day left a mild chill in the air that contrasted against the bright, bright sunlight that bathed across the battlements. The shadow cast was noticeably darker with the sun so high in the sky, blending Beruka in like a mar of black on black. Save the blue sheen of her hair and a careful eye, it would’ve been difficult to see her without a concentrated glance. Despite this, Beruka was certainly aware of a presence near her.

It did not bother her that danger lurked around the castle—after all, rumor spoke of mishaps and crimes all of the time. What provoked her suspicion was that the figure had been tailing her since she left her quarters; always on the edge of view, but never making themselves known. If they were a threat, Beruka suspected they would’ve attacked the moment she stepped out of her room. Instead, they continued to hover in her periphery, casually observing.

Her ‘sixth sense’ for the streets was simply a hyperawareness of anyone near her person. This was the case here; that individual making it doubly difficult for her to even _think_ without wishing to strike them down where they stood. Giving in, Beruka turned her head in the direction of the figure, and said, “Just show yourself already.”

The appearance of the gruff, disheveled-looking man sent pinpricks of _something_ across her temple. Beruka had on-and-off encounters with the one-eyed disaster known as Niles in the slums since she was a girl, but to see him on castle grounds was a different matter entirely. Just the mention of his name connected him to trouble, but when Beruka reflected on this, she drew an obvious connection.

“I see. It’s you,” she said, leaning against the castle wall. “Congratulations.”

Niles stopped beside her, spreading his arms wide. “Word travels fast,” he replied, a cocky grin lighting up his features. “I didn’t think you’d hear of me so soon.”

“Unsurprising, considering who it’s related to.”

Niles gave a laugh. “I won’t deny that,” he said, choosing to lean into the space beside her. “It’s good to see you again, Beruka.”

She harrumphed, not giving him the courtesy of her attention. Instead, Beruka kept her eyes cast to the sunny side of the courtyard. “There’s nothing pleasing seeing another rat of the slums,” she said.

Niles hummed. “Really?” he said. “Do you tell yourself that every time you look in the mirror?”

Beruka’s glare snapped to him. “Your jokes are unwarranted.”

“But I’m not making jokes. I was simply making a point. Even if we left the slums, we’re still a product of it. You and I.” Niles gave a shrug, tone growing serious when he said, “But now? I’m a changed man now, Beruka. Lord Leo showed me kindness, and I wish to repay that kindness in any way possible.”

Beruka pursed her lips. She knew of that dedication—it was the same undying loyalty she promised to Lady Camilla when she spared her worthless life. To see a reflection of that in another bothered something in her, the thorny wrap of that feeling from being in Niles’s presence prickling a sensation down her arms. She crossed them uncomfortably.

“You’re unfit to be a retainer,” Beruka said, as if in defiance of Niles.

“And why do you think that?” Niles asked, tilting his head at her.

“You’ll bring trouble to the Nohrian royals. To Lady Camilla.” Beruka frowned. “I will not have you upsetting what peace her days see now.”

“And if I do?”

“I’ll kill you myself if you are a threat.”

Niles threw his head back and gave a hearty laugh. “You needn’t worry your pretty little head,” Niles said. “I meant it when I said my life is completely dedicated to Lord Leo now. I won’t cause any trouble. However…” He gave a lop-sided grin. “Are you sure you should be making such idle threats? Didn’t you give up assassinations to serve your oh-so sweet Lady Camilla? It would reflect badly on her if you murder in cold blood—especially if it’s one of your fellow retainers.”

Beruka narrowed her eyes. “It isn’t a threat,” she said. “It’s a promise. Lady Camilla may be kind, but she’ll listen to any justification I give for putting a knife in your throat. Don’t get in my way and your life will be spared.”

“Touchy, touchy,” Niles said, wagging a finger. “A cornered rat always bites back, hmm?”

Beruka snapped her gaze back to the courtyard.

“I’ll remember your words,” Niles said, taking this as a sign he was dismissed. “I hope we play along well, Beruka. After all, we’re stuck with each other. See ya.”

With that, Niles turned on his heel and began to traipse away. Beruka tightened her arms across her chest and glared at his back until he was entirely gone, visibly bothered by the whole exchange.

 _He has never done any good in his life_ , Beruka thought. _Lord Leo made a mistake making him a retainer, but I will see to it he remains in line. I will_ not _let him cause trouble for the royal family._

 

* * *

 

Beruka kept to her word and remained vigilant, not once taking her eyes off of Niles. It neared close to a year since he’d taken on the duties of a retainer and his reunion with Beruka, and true to his word, Niles hadn’t done anything to drag the reputation of the royal family through the mud. It was suspicious that he was _too_ well-behaved, actually. He fit into the royal family and staff like a missing piece in a very simple puzzle, navigating interaction with others smoothly while also keeping his distance. Beruka thought his interactions superficial, but understandable. After all, he did more than her when it came to socializing as a whole.

It was as if Beruka willed something to happen— _anything_ —so she’d have a reason to justify her suppressed contempt for the man. Her desire was fulfilled one lone night when she saw Niles staggering his way into the castle from a side entrance; his paltry skills as a tracker offset by something probably in his system. When this turned into a daily pattern, Beruka knew there to be a problem, and her insides seemed to leap at the chance to determine what.

At once, Beruka got to work tailing him—first mentally documenting what times he left and the times he returned, before carefully following after him once he left the castle grounds. Yet, once she encountered the perimeter of which Niles headed to every night, Beruka lost the will to go further.

 _Of all places, why does he go back to the slums?_ Beruka thought to herself one storming night. The weather proved too difficult to traverse, so she left Niles to his own devices for the time being. _Has he really not changed?_

This epiphany suddenly provoked something in Beruka. It was only recently she learned that feeling to be anger, _fury_. Truthfully, she still didn’t trust Niles—not one bit—but her opinion of him was edging on change due to his good behavior. To see that come under threat made her feel foolish. It was wrong of her to even think more of him.

 _Once a rat of the slums, always a rat of the slums. We all return there eventually_.

In this case, Beruka realized she would have to head back there now. She had avoided it completely, under the predilection that one step in would submerse her back into a lifestyle she completely gave up. However, Lady Camilla always came first, and she’d rather chance old behaviors than let someone else disturb the eldest princess’s life.

_Anything for Lady Camilla. I am her retainer. My life is forfeit when it comes to her._

 

* * *

That night proved to be a worthwhile one; the clear navy of the sky disturbed only by the light of stars like diamonds scattered across a piece of velvet. Beruka’s steps barely made a sound as she trailed after Niles, whose frequency of visits made his venture into the slums quicker than she realized. He gained some distance from her once he made it into the slums, a small bit is hesitance holding Beruka back, but she dashed her feelings aside and rushed forward hastily so as not to lose her mark.

Some time later, Niles led her to a ramshackle building in the lower depths of the slums. Rowdy jeers and laughter echoed from its confines, causing Beruka to narrow her eyes. Of all places, it wasn’t one that would welcome her warmly, so she opted out of entering. But it still drew her concern.

 _What reason does he find the need to go to a tavern in the slums?_ she thought. _When there is far better alcohol in the castle? He’s said himself countless of times._

Beruka hunkered down low behind the shadow of a barrel. If she couldn’t get an answer now, she would wait. Her patience was a force to be reckoned with, and if Niles had to make her wait all night, then so be it. For once, she would play by his game.

Thankfully, Niles’s stay only lasted a little over an hour. Unlike his smooth steps into the slums, he slumped forward on his feet as if barely able to remain standing. Beruka huffed; she wasn’t in the mood to interrogate him in his drunken state, but without answers, she felt her tracking was moot.

Beruka rushed out to Niles by the time he reached her alley, dragging him back two steps before pushing him up against the back tavern wall. Her lunge had some strength to it, forcing the air from Niles’s lungs as he stared down bewildered at the smaller figure holding him in place by his shoulders. Beruka saw herself reflected in the glaze of his eyes, her glare like hardened steel.

“W-what...?” Niles gasped. Beruka could smell the liquor on his breath. “Beruka?!”

“Niles,” she said. “What are you doing here? I swear, if you’re up to no good, I’ll—”

“I should be asking _you_ that,” Niles said. “Did you follow me all the way from the castle?”

“Several times, yes,” Beruka said. “To confirm where you were going.”

“Gods, I knew I was being followed,” Niles said. “I should’ve been more careful…”

“Your reservations regarding this moment are irrelevant,” Beruka said. “Why are you here?”

“Why are _you_ here?”

“Stop asking questions to questions and give me an answer.”

“Y-you can’t expect me not to, not when I can’t think of a reason _why_ you’re here.” Niles shot back. “Unless, you’re here for Fjord? Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

Beruka furrowed her brow. “ _What?_ ”

“Look, Beruka.” Niles pursed his lips. “Fjord may be a piece of shit, but he’s a good man—honest—and you should—”

“What are you talking about this time?” The frustration to Beruka’s tone was emphasized when she shoved him hard back against the tavern wall, one hand fisted in his shirt. “I’m not here to kill anyone; I told you I'm not an assassin anymore. I want answers, Niles. Nothing else. Tell me why you’re here or I swear I _will_ kill you on the spot. I may have put my duties behind me, but my reasons are different if I find out you're putting the royalty's reputation in jeopardy.”

“B-Beruka…”

“ _Now_.”

“Okay, okay,” Niles said, trying to ease the tension between them. “Just, just confirm one thing for me: You’re not here to kill Fjord, right?”

Beruka pursed her lips. “No,” she said. “I’m unaware of who that even is.”

Niles released a sigh of relief. “Good…”

“Enough. Start talking, Niles,” Beruka demanded.

Niles shut his eye, collecting his thoughts, before opening it again. “Where do you want me to start?”

“Fjord. Who is he?”

“He was one of the bandits that took me in when I was a kid,” Niles said. “Probably the closet thing to a father I’ve ever had.”

“He’s who you come see in the slums?”

Niles thinned his lips. “Yes,” he said. “He’s… the only one left. The rest of the band is dead. He opened up this tavern”—he cocked his chin behind him—"after deciding he didn’t have a life in thieving anymore. Someone I have connections with passed along word that he was still around, so I tracked him down. I wanted to catch up.”

“And one visit turned into several.”

Niles inclined his head. “Yes,” he said.

“Lord Leo would be ashamed of you,” Beruka spat. “Knowing you’re here instead of staying true to your promise as his retainer.”

“On the contrary, he’s aware,” Niles said. Despite saying this, his words came out thick, guarded. “He knows a part of me remains in the slums.”

Beruka glared at him harder. “That’s a flimsy excuse,” she said. “Explain yourself clearer.”

“I’m doing his dirty work for him,” Niles said. “He knows I have connections, and he wants me to follow-up on them. Constantly. So, unlike your implications, I am doing exactly as he wishes. I am betraying no one.”

Beruka’s hold on him faltered, but she still didn’t release him. His excuse sounded too far-fetched, too unbelievable, for it to be true, but in the long run, it made sense. Why would Lord Leo threaten his role as a public figure venturing into the slums when he could send his retainer with a history of its alleys and people? Niles’s worth there was unmatchable—unless Beruka was asked herself, of course.

“I see,” Beruka said. Yet, despite understanding, she still wondered. “You must prefer it here than at the castle.”

Niles quirked a brow. “When did I ever say that?”

“It shows,” Beruka said. “What with how many times you’ve come here to get drunk.”

Niles frowned. “Actually, no. I hate it,” he said.

Beruka blinked. “You’re fooling no one, Niles.”

“Then you’re a fool.”

Beruka felt inclined to do _something_ to him, to quiet his snark, but held herself back on account that Niles wasn’t making jokes. His face was deep, shaded, as if he were weighing something heavy on his mind.

“Every day of my life was hell here in the slums,” Niles said. “I’ve done things I would be ashamed of saying, if only to survive. That is the part of me that remains here. That need to survive, to do whatever it takes to survive. I would never come back here if it is means confronting that half of me again.”

His reply made Beruka’s throat tighten. His words triggered something in her, something raw and hollow. A familiar sensation that she ignored with each kill she made as a child. Even if she wanted to, Beruka couldn’t say anything, couldn’t press him for more, and simply let him speak. If only to save face before a truth even she herself denied.

“I know you’ve seen me being buddy-buddy with the others at the castle. Supposedly getting along with them. That’s a farce,” Niles said. “I don’t. I feel like an outsider among them. I come back to the slums because it’s a comfort. If I didn’t, it would continue to eat away at me.”

Beruka forced out a word, though it only came out in a whisper. “What?”

“The loneliness,” Niles said. “That I’m nothing to no one. Zero. I can’t help but think those warm smiles are lies. I come back to the slums to be among my own kind, Beruka. That’s why I’m here even if I hate it.”

Beruka’s hands slipped from him, balling into fists. She couldn’t look him in the eye, because if she did, she knew she’d only see a standing representation of herself and all of her fears and anxieties.

Words of comfort weren’t her forte, but she tried, saying, “I know how you feel.”

Niles shifted on his legs, seemingly taken aback. “Do you now?” he asked. “Hard to believe when many say you don’t feel anything.”

“I used to, but you—” Beruka looked up to him and glared. She couldn’t quite say _he_ was the only thing making her feel something, when feelings themselves were a foreign entity. “Never mind. Just know, Niles, I am your ally. Even if you feel alone, know that I’m alone, and you… can turn to me. Should you need to.”

That infamous grin cracked on his face. “So, we can be alone together, eh?” he said.

The insinuation laced in that reply had her frowning. Gruffly, Beruka said, “If it brings comfort to you to think of it that way, then yes.”

“Are you sure you aren’t the drunk one?” Niles asked.

“No,” Beruka said, “but I guess you’re sobering up now if you’re making jokes.”

“Your lunge at me did all of the work,” Niles said. “I’ve been sober for a while.”

“Then…”

“No, I wasn’t drunkenly admitting things to you. I was serious with everything I said.”

Beruka hummed. “I see.” A beat passed between the two as she held Niles’s gaze, adding, “So was I.”

Niles was stricken, but he shrugged it off with a small laugh. “You’re a good woman, Beruka,” he said, beckoning her along. She knew immediately they were both now heading back to the castle. “Even if you don’t show it.”

  

* * *

 

_“At the end, I wondered out loud if I should try to spend my life together with you.”_

_“…”_

_“If you’re not interested, you can say so. I’ll just go back to living alone and keeping my distance from most people. Because I can’t see myself settling down with anyone else.”_

_“…”_

_“I accept.”_

_“Really?”_

_“I… don’t want you to be alone.”_

_“…Thank you, Beruka. That means a lot to me.”_

 

* * *

 

It was a pitiable thing; a thin band of gold that Beruka had seen dozens upon hundreds of times donning the fingers of the nobility. She had little care for jewelry or other extravagant affairs, but that ring bore more meaning to it than anything she ever held before. Part of her wondered just who Niles happened to snatch it from, but she thought otherwise asking. All that mattered now was that it confirmed the bond between them—something to hold onto until the war was over.

Beruka pinched an eye shut and held it up before the sun, capturing light in the golden halo. Her wits were always about her, but for once, she found herself distracted by awe as she turned the ring about and marveled at the light streaming through. It was the light jab of an elbow in her side that broke her stupor, an amused smile quirked on Niles’s lips as he regarded her. A jolt of bliss surged itself up from Beruka’s stomach to her heart in that instant, but the muscles of her face barely twitched to return his smile.

“Are you okay?” he asked her. “You’ve been fixated on that ring for days now. Do you like it that much?”

Beruka closed her fingers over the ring and pressed it to her chest, right over her heart. “Yes,” she said. “It’s something that binds me to you.” She looked to Niles. “I like it quite a bit.”

Niles’s reply caught in his throat, a flush overcoming his features. He had expected things to change between himself and Beruka since they were now engaged, but never such a substantial shift. She’d calmed in his presence and her thoughts flowed freely to the point they made conversation unrelated to their pasts. Moreover, she was far… sweeter… than he imagined. It was sometimes too much to take in.

“It belonged to Fjord’s sister,” Niles said. Beruka blinked at him slowly, a noted gesture Niles had observed whenever he happened to answer a thought on her mind. “His sister died before she had a chance to use it. Said to put it to good use before he left the slums, so I did.”

Beruka glanced to the ring again. “Fjord left?”

Niles inclined his head. “Some men from his past were after him, so he fled. I heard he’s in Hoshido, but I’m unsure.”

“When we see him again, we must thank him,” Beruka said. “After the war.”

“Right. After the war.” Niles shifted on his feet, folding arms across his chest. “Until Lady Corrin brings peace to the land.”

Beruka pursed her lips. “You seem bothered,” she said.

“I am,” Niles said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Getting engaged in the middle of a war wasn’t my idea of romantic, but I couldn’t think of any other time. It was now or never, honestly, ever since you tracked down my mother’s grave.”

“Anytime… would’ve been fine,” Beruka said, bowing her head. A light dusting of scarlet spread across her pale face. “I’m happy, Niles. Knowing I can be with you now, and remain by your side after the war, brings me such happiness. It’s enough. You needn’t worry over such things now.”

“Beruka…”

Since the exchange of the ring from Niles’s hand to hers, he hadn’t chanced anything beyond love-filled looks in her direction. He felt as if he were threading a sensitive line as neither him nor her knew of gentleness in their lives. It was either pain or nothing, no in-between. Thus, when he rose his hand to her, he had to gulp back the blaring alarm he was doing something wrong. Beruka looked to him, exchanging glances between the hovering member and his face, expectation a hardened mask on hers.

Niles pushed through the tension, a tremble to his fingertips when he touched it upon Beruka’s cheek. She stiffened, drawing in a sharp breath that was exhaled slowly. It was the first contact they’d ever made, but it was the first needed gesture to provoke the rest that came naturally.

Niles’s touch drifted over her face gently as if he were trying to memorize her features. Beruka shut her eyes, holding back whatever discomfort bubbled up within her. When Niles’s finger smoothed under the cloth of her headband, a mark on her forehead drew his curiosity. He shifted it up fully and blinked to the faded scar on her temple, not once having noticed it despite how much he looked at Beruka.

“I got it when I was a girl,” Beruka said, eyes fluttering open. “I was playing house with a girl who invited a boy to play with us. The boy threw a rock at me when I made him angry. Called him awful and said I would never marry someone like him.” Her chuckle was light and so rare a sound, Niles felt it embellish itself in his being. “Childish, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Niles said.

He didn’t have the heart to tell her that _he_ was that boy. Not yet, anyway. It’d make for a good reminiscence when they were comfortable with each other, not just breaching the threshold of themselves. Instead, he mentally bid her an apology as he pressed a peck to the faded scar, cursing his sensitive, rambunctious childhood.

 _What a coincidence it is_ , Niles thought, _that one incident in our youth would connect us when we happened to move up in the world._

* * *

 

When Beruka awakened, she reflexively reached her hand out to feel for the firmness of a back—anything—to ground the notion she wasn’t alone when she woke up. Yet, her hand smoothed across an empty bedside, immediately drawing her up from the covers. It wasn’t uncommon for Niles to slip out of bed and make for the bathroom or veranda when frightened awake by a nightmare. Beruka would tail after him when this occurred, comforting him until he was calm enough to be led back to bed.

Yet, even in the dimness, Beruka could tell it was morning. Midspring was finally dipping into the heat of summer, leaving the room comfortably warm. A light gale wafting up from the open veranda door immediately drew Beruka’s attention to it, and from the bed, she could see Niles seated there, dressed for the day.

“Niles?” she called to him gently. “You’re still here? Don’t you have business with Lord Leo?”

“Ah, Beruka,” Niles said, quirking to attention upon mention of his name. “I do, but I didn’t want to leave yet.”

“And why’s that?”

“I didn’t want to leave _you._ ” Once Beruka was before him, he caught her hand in his own, and brushed lips against her knuckles.

“Business first,” Beruka said even as he now embraced her about her middle. “You know there’s a lot to be done now that the war is finished.”

“I know,” Niles breathed, “but I’ve found it difficult to part from you in the mornings.”

“I’ll be here, Niles,” Beruka said, gently running fingers through his wan locks. “I’ll be here when you come home.”

“Sometimes I find that hard to believe.” When Niles laughed, it was hollow. “Like all of this is a lie—being this happy. Like it is undeserved. Beruka, I—”

“I love you, Niles.” The admittance was even and full just like the day they said their vows and pledged themselves to each other. Beruka thought she would never have that confidence again, but the days thereafter, her admissions of love came easier. “None of this is a lie, especially how I feel for you. You can reconsider everything else, but please don’t reconsider my feelings for you.”

“I’m, I-I’m sorry,” Niles said, giving her a small squeeze. “I didn’t mean to doubt you.”

“I know you didn’t,” Beruka said. “Even I’m insecure when it comes to this. This… happiness. It’s a foreign feeling, but I’m sure with time, I—we—will get used to it.”

“What I would give for your rationality,” Niles said, drawing back to look up at her. “It’s the one thing I love about you.”

A small smile tugged at her lips. “That’s all?” she said.

“No, no,” Niles said, shaking his head. “Your smile as well, your laugh, your presence.” He groaned. “Ugh, you’re making it difficult to leave, Beruka.”

Beruka sighed even as Niles pulled her in tight enough to hardly budge. “You _have_ to go,” she said. “Lord Leo is waiting for you.”

“Fine, fine.” Niles finally stood, releasing Beruka if only to press a kiss to her temple. “I’ll be going, then. See you later on tonight, Beruka.”

“Later, Niles,” she replied, bidding him goodbye with a small wave. She escaped back to the bedroom before he had a chance to scoop her up into an embrace again, knowing he’d be excessively late if he did.

 

* * *

 

Beruka reached forward again, seeking the foundation of Niles’s back to ground herself, and sat up upon feeling nothing. Nights like these were now commonplace; Niles’s nightmares worsening the months into the first year they were married. Likewise, Beruka’s concerns grew for him, but Niles temporarily pacified her by reassuring her everything was fine. Unfortunately, it’d grown to a point where his words fell on deaf ears as she adamantly stayed by his side to comfort him.

Beruka found Niles in his usual spot seated upon the veranda. He reclined lazily in one of the seats, his single eye glinting against the bright, bright shine of the moon. He remained unaware of Beruka’s approach, and when she sat herself in the seat across from him, only regarded her with a single glance.

“You got out of bed again,” Beruka said, defaulting to what she normally said to cut through the red tape. “Is something the matter?”

Niles let out a long breath, nodding. “Yes,” he said. Before Beruka could inquire what his nightmare was about, he said, “This isn’t concerning a dream.”

This certainly piqued Beruka’s interest. “Then what?” she asked. Niles pinched his lips together, clearly unnerved, prompting Beruka to reach her hands to his and say, “You can tell me, Niles. I’ll listen to whatever is on your mind. I’m here for you.”

Niles bowed his head, giving Beruka’s hands a squeeze. “Beruka, I…” He let out whatever breath he held. “Beruka, how do you feel about children?”

Beruka gave paused, taken aback by the inquiry. “Children?” she said. “I never really thought about children…”

She had very little opinion when it came to children, considering her childhood and how she was raised. It never dawned on her that Niles may want a child, but the tension regarding the topic was palpable even as Beruka sat across from him. Just as she was about to let Niles know of her reservations, he made his known first.

“I, I-I don’t think I’d make a good father,” Niles said. His hold on Beruka’s hands tightened to a painful degree. “The idea of r-raising a child terrifies me.” Niles’s voice cracked from a sob. “I don’t think I can be a father, Beruka.”

“Niles…”

Beruka launched up from her seat and pulled her husband to her chest. He trembled in her hold, wracked by sobs that found their way through in his moment of weakness. When Niles calmed somewhat, Beruka wiped the wetness from his cheeks while blinking away the tears that dare fall down hers.

“Is this why you haven’t been able to sleep at night?” she asked him. “The idea of children?”

“Y-yes. I came from a broken home, Beruka. So did you. Our examples for parents were, they were unsavory. I have no idea what a good parent is, let alone a father. If we were to have a child, I’m sure they’d grow up unhappy. Beruka, I don’t want that. I don’t want them knowing the hardships of the life we knew.”

Beruka sighed, her heart swelling with both hurt and pity. She knew Niles had a point, but contrarily, she knew both of them were capable of change. _If we from the slums could make something of ourselves,_ she thought. _Then who is to say we’d fail our child if we have one?_

“We don’t have to have children, Niles,” Beruka told him. “At least, not now. Or ever. It isn’t an issue we have to force.”

“Beruka…”

“Let’s take our time and find ourselves first,” Beruka said, smiling down to him. “Then we can concern ourselves with children.”

Niles dipped his head, once again pulling her tight to him. Beruka let him, if only because she knew it was the one way he grounded herself—holding her.

“Okay,” he finally said. “When that time comes, then we’ll decide.”

 

* * *

 

Saying goodbye to Lady Camilla had been one of the most difficult things for Beruka. She was one of the only figures in Beruka’s life that showed her true, unconditional kindness when it felt like the world was against her. However, she was bound by a promise and a ring to another person—Niles—and she couldn’t leave him. Not when he was so alone, not when she knew how he felt and could assuage his feelings by simply being.

Her parting from the eldest princess was sorrowful and heartrending, but Beruka knew she could trust Lady Corrin to protect both the siblings of Nohr and Hoshido. She was capable of miracles, this much Beruka was sure of, when peace was finally brought to the land. Cleaning up the remnants of a war long fought in the aftermath of that peace would take time, as would be creating a life with her new husband.

It would be over a year until Beruka could see Lady Camilla again, if only in brief stints. She was still as busy as ever, working through peace negotiations, trades, and the like even as the tide of peace had receded into a simple mundanity. However, when Lady Camilla was free, Beruka would make her way to _her_ ; she didn’t trust the state of a world that was likely still after a Nohrian royal’s life. Having Lady Camilla make the trip to her was too dangerous.

Yet, every subsequent visit to Lady Camilla after the second did bring with it discomfort. Every time she left her home, Beruka wore her armor, if only for the extra protection. Yet, over time, it grew tighter and tighter about the middle, worrying Beruka somewhat.

Lady Camilla touched a finger to the side of her lip and tilted her head, confusion upon her face when Beruka explained her concerns. “Well, your lifestyle has changed, sweetie,” she said. “Been snacking more lately?”

Beruka’s head gave a little shake. “No,” she said, stomach churning when she looked to the cup of tea Lady Camilla had presented her. “I eat about the same.”

“Have you been sleeping more?”

Beruka dipped her head. “Yes, but it isn’t a dramatic change. I still stick to my same training and exercise regime. The weight came on suddenly. I might be sick or—”

Lady Camilla hummed in thought before her eyes sparkled from an epiphany. “Hmm… Hmm!” She suddenly giggled mirthfully, leaning across the table to cup Beruka’s hands in her own.

Beruka blinked, exchanging glances from the touch that was a commonplace habit with the Nohrian princess and her bright smile. “What is it?” Beruka asked.

“Oh, sweetie! You’re a married woman, you knew it’d happen eventually!”

Beruka blinked at her again. “What, Lady Camilla?” she asked, tone firm and serious. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Beruka, you’re _pregnant!_ ” The very mention of the word had Beruka stiffening in place. “Mother described the same thing happened to her when she was pregnant with Xander. Her clothes felt tighter, she turned her nose up at certain foods… She described the discomfort for some time, but it paled in comparison to having her first child. Sweetie, I’m so happy for you!”

A sensation that had long since left her returned with surprising veracity; a stinging, prickly feeling that worked its way up her arms. A tremble passed through Beruka as she pulled her hands from Lady Camilla, wrapping arms about herself as her insides seemed to collapse from the news. She began to shake her head to the race of doubts clouding her thoughts. Beruka only broke from it briefly when Lady Camilla raced to her side and pulled her into a tight embrace, soothing words spoken in her ear to quell her fears.

When she had calmed somewhat, Beruka explained her lack of excitement for her new revelation. “Niles doesn’t want children, Lady Camilla,” Beruka said, bowing her head. “He wasn’t adamant about it, but…” Her voice caught in her throat. “He fears mistreating the child, hurting them, because he doesn’t know what it means to be a good father. If… I-if I tell him I’m pregnant…”

A small frown met Lady Camilla’s lips as she smoothed a hand on the crown of Beruka’s head. “Beruka…” She gently lifted her retainer’s head to look upon her. “Niles is a good man. He’ll be there for you.”

A doleful smile curved on Beruka’s lips as she tried in vain to lean into Lady Camilla’s comfort. Yet, she found she couldn’t, as she knew the truth. “No, Lady Camilla, you’re wrong,” she said as tears began to spill down her cheeks. “He won’t be there for me if I tell him.”

 

* * *

 

The days layered together—one over the other, over the other, over the other; regret and guilt building every time Beruka edged on telling Niles the truth, but couldn’t. She shouldered indifference toward him, quieted during conversations, and seemed to listlessly drift into thought when Niles sought her for support. Beruka was his emotional pillar since the beginning of their marriage, but as he watched her slowly dissolve into what could be her own form of depression, Niles couldn’t take it anymore.

He confronted her early in the morning, when the refreshing calm of a good sleep usually cleared the air between them. Despite his duties to Lord Leo, he begged him for one day of rest, if only to be there for his wife. Lord Leo wasn’t a stern man; he let Niles have his day, if only he promised to return to his requests the next. Niles, without a doubt, promised him.

Niles glanced to his wife across the table. The tea at her wrist had grown cold; an unusual notion for Beruka when she enjoyed at least one cup before tending to chores. She herself was listless, eyes narrowed at her hands as if willing them not to tremble. When Niles reached across and laid his over hers, he felt a shiver pass through them.

“Lord Leo let me have a day off,” he said, “so that I might ask you what’s wrong, Beruka.”

Beruka glanced up to Niles. As if the reply was practiced again and again, she said smoothly, “Nothing’s wrong, Niles.”

Niles shook his head. “Something is clearly wrong,” he said. “You won’t even talk to me. Please, Beruka. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Beruka glared at him. “Nothing’s wrong,” she insisted firmly.

“Beruka—”

“Niles, please stop.” Beruka stood. “There’s nothing wrong with me. You would know—”

“That’s the thing—I _do_ know there’s something wrong with you!” Niles suddenly shouted, throwing his hands up. “I’m incredibly worried about you, Beruka, but you won’t tell me _anything!_ Every time I try to broach the subject, you shut me down. Is it me? Am I making you unhappy?”

Beruka stilled, lips pursing at the insinuation. It was far from the truth, but her sudden pause at the question seemed to confirm what Niles had on his mind.

“Gods, I knew it,” he said, suddenly launching up from his seat to pace about the room. “I knew that’s what it was. I knew all of this was too good to be true. We finally reached that point, eh?”

“N-Niles…”

“ _Rrgh!_ ” Niles kicked at the chair he once sat upon, clattering it to the floor. The pain of the impact paled in comparison to how his head throbbed. “Why couldn’t you be honest with me?” he asked, almost begged. “If you were unhappy, Beruka—”

“I’m not unhappy,” she said steadfastly. “Far from it.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m _not_.” Beruka’s glare hardened. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Niles.”

“Then if it isn’t that, then _what_ is it? Speak to me, Beruka! I don’t like being kept in the dark!”

Beruka bowed her head, caught between the throes of this confrontation and her inability to be truthful to her husband. She wanted to lie to him, backpedal to the easier matter of addressing unhappiness in what was—for now—a perfectly comfortable marriage. Assuaging unhappiness felt like a simpler matter than the introduction of a new person into a family, Beruka thought. Especially if it was someone unwanted.

Chagrining, Beruka sought Niles’s hands again, and pressed them to the base of her abdomen. He blinked at his wife, unsure of what the gesture meant.

“Niles… N-Niles, I’m pregnant,” Beruka said. The admittance released a load from her shoulders. Yet, she felt his hands run cold beneath her touch.

Niles cleared his throat. “H-how…” he began, but his voice caught. “How… long… have you known?”

“A little over a month.”

“And how far along?”

“About the same, maybe a month more.”

Niles let out a long, deep exhalation. “I… see,” he said. “That’s why you’ve been distant.”

“Yes.”

He began to tremble even has he slipped hands about Beruka’s shoulders, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I don’t know what to say,” he said.

“You can say you’re upset, Niles,” Beruka said, slotting herself into the hollow between his neck and shoulder. “I won’t hold it against you.”

“I don’t know how I feel either,” Niles said. “I’m still reeling from the fact that you’ll be having my child…”

“There’s always the option of—”

“Don’t speak of it, Beruka. I won’t hear it.” Niles shook his head. “Let me just come to terms with this, all right?”

“All right.” Beruka nodded her head. “We’ll find a way to make this work.”

“We will,” Niles said. “No matter what.”

The very next morning, Niles was gone.

 

* * *

 

“It’s been two weeks, Lord Leo. You must know where he is.”

Beruka had never known desperation such as this. She felt she had already been given enough by the Nohrian royal family when Lady Camilla spared her life, so pleading for more felt undeserved. She had readily expected Lord Leo to turn down her request, retainer or not. He was still up to his neck in negotiations with Hoshido, and sparing one day to entertain the company of someone who wasn’t a government official felt unsavory, in Beruka’s opinion.

Yet, he regarded her warmly, and took her concerns to heart, as he shared them too. He cocked his head to the tea set before her, the steam having dissipated, leaving only a lukewarm serving before her.

“Is the tea not to your liking?” he asked her. “I’ll understand if that is the case.” He tapped the tin set upon the table; a bronze container decorated with a pink floral motif that wrapped about its entirety. Had Beruka not known better, she would’ve thought it ill-fitting for the prince. However, it was certainly to his liking.

“No, no it’s fine, Lord Leo,” Beruka said, waving a dismissive hand. “The tea’s fine. I’ve simply… lost taste for it overall, for the time being. If you understand.”

“Ah, yes.” Lord Leo dipped his head at her, retrieving the cup and the tin together. “Lady Camilla had informed me. Congratulations.”

“Y-yes,” Beruka said. “Thank you.”

Considering neither of them were the masters of small talk, it was Lord Leo who broke the mold first. Leaning against the table, he considered the air, before saying, “Niles hasn’t once returned home to you?”

Beruka shook her head. “No,” she said. “He left the morning after the day you gave him off and never returned. What was your mission for him, Lord Leo?”

“I sent him into the slums,” Lord Leo said. Even though Beruka knew the truth, the reply still made her stomach drop. “There's still much work to be done, but I sent him there to help make it safer for residents. Our change is small, but there is progress.”

Beruka swallowed. Lord Leo’s intentions were toward good, but she couldn’t help but think they were misaimed. Through Niles’s guidance, she had accepted that her past in the slums were part of her. Something she couldn’t cleave from herself, but certainly come to terms with. Even though her husband still clung to his reservations, she didn’t.

However, it was nigh impossible to bring order to a place that epitomized chaos, unruliness, the ugliness of society. It was why those who moved up in the world could only accept it as a part of themselves, come to terms with it, while those stuck in place had to survive through it. Beruka had not once stepped into the slums since marrying, so she had no backing on what change Lord Leo through Niles had made, but she was positive it was only a temporary thing.

“Before he left, Niles informed me he was going to look into one of his connections for some information I requested. That was the last exchange I had with him. He hasn’t sent along word with a messenger either, so I’m unsure if my request was even completed. So…”

Beruka furrowed her brow. “What are you saying, Lord Leo?”

Lord Leo let out a long exhalation. “What I’m saying, Beruka, is your husband does dangerous work. There is the chance that—”

Beruka banged a fist on the table. “Don’t even imply that, Lord Leo,” she growled. “Nothing has happened to Niles.”

Lord Leo nodded to her slowly. “My apologies,” he said. “But fair warning, Beruka. You should prepare for the moment, considering the circumstances.”

Beruka launched up from her seat. Fear and anger danced in her chest, held back only from the fact she was in the presence of a Nohrian royal. “Are you going to help me or not, Lord Leo?”

“My help is limited, unfortunately,” he said. “The most I can do is send in my other retainer to follow Niles’s tracks, but Odin doesn’t know the slums as he does.”

“Then I will find him myself.” Beruka turned on her heel and padded out of his quarters, not once looking to the prince. Before she left, however, she said over her shoulder, “Niles is alive. I know he is.”

“Of course,” Lord Leo said, nodding to her back. “I trust that you will find him, Beruka.”

 

* * *

 

Beruka prepared that night. Her nerves and the wafting nausea of her pregnancy made it difficult to consider dinner, so she opted to go on an empty stomach. With her armor donned (now tighter about the middle), Beruka made for the streets in the direction of the slums.

The night proved a quiet one with not a sound or presence marring the silence of the streets. This was worrisome; when the slums were quiet, danger was imminent. At least, this is what Beruka knew. Maybe Lord Leo through Niles had made the progress he mentioned?

Beruka still took her time making her way deeper into the seedier parts of the slums, always aware. Thankfully, her skills hadn’t waned due to disuse, making the shift from one alley to the other feel like practice.

Eventually, Beruka made her way to the only place she was sure of Niles to be: The tavern he’d frequented so long ago. Before she opened the door, the familiar sound of hearty laughter filled her ears, making relief bloom in her chest. This was overshadowed but a moment later with fury as she threw the door open. It cracked against the opposing wall, silencing all inhabitants within.

Beruka’s steely gaze caused many to shift in their seats as she glided it across the lot, but when her eyes landed on Niles at the bar, it hardened. His back was to her as he slumped forward, causing a yelp to escape him when she clapped a hand on his shoulder and jerked him back. Niles did a double-take as he stumbled to his feet, crying, “B-Beruka?! Why are you—”

Beruka hadn’t time for his words. She continued to tug him away by his capelet, his protests and apologies falling on deaf ears as she dragged him from the limits of the bar, through the slums, and back to the main road in little time. She only released him when she heard a strained sob, her heart hitching to see her husband in such a broken, pitiable state.

Niles keeled in on himself, shaking from the force of his tears. In a slurred voice, he said, “I-I’m sorry… I’m so, so sorry, Beruka. I-I… I couldn’t, I-I couldn’t accept it… I couldn’t accept…” His voice hitched. “I… You… I-I won’t make a good father, Beruka. I’m sorry.”

Beruka thinned her lips. “Get up, Niles,” she demanded.

“Beruka, I—”

“Get _up_.” Beruka forced him to his feet, shoving hands under his pits and pulling him upward. His eye widened from her strength. “Wipe your face. We’re going home.”

“Beruka… I can’t go back.”

“Let’s go.”

“Beruka—”

“I won’t kill you,” Beruka snarled, “but I’ll drag you back as just a torso and a head if you won’t come. I won’t let this child grow up without a father.”

“Beruka!” She had begun to drag him again by his arm, but he managed to tug her back before she took a step. “What, what is this? Aren’t you—”

“I’m _furious_ ,” Beruka said, whipping around to him. Her eyes glossed over, but she spilled no tears. “You left me alone, Niles. Even when I promised to remain by your side, _you_ left _me_. How dare you. How dare you disappear for two weeks and, and…” Her hands fisted into his shirt. “Just because we’re having a baby, you left me. You _coward_. I’ll never forgive you!”

“B-Beruka…” Niles clutched her face, thumbing away the tears that streamed down her pale cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

“I know you have your reservations about this, but did you have to leave me?” Beruka asked. “Did you?”

“I…” Niles averted his eye. “I couldn’t take the pressure. It was too much. I thought a drink might clear my head, but one turned into too many, and Fjord was there to comfort me. I hadn't seen him in so long, and there he was.” He huffed. “Flimsy excuses, I know, but Beruka… I won’t make a good father. You _know_ that.”

“Even if I know that, I _can’t_ raise this child alone,” she said. “I can’t. They’ll die.”

“Beruka, you’ll be a good mother,” Niles said, adamant. “But I, I won’t be able to love that child. The one woman—only _person_ —I’ll ever love is you. Only you. I can’t even think about raising that child in a loveless home. Being that kind of father to them. I can’t.”

“Would you just stop it?!” Beruka hadn’t meant to cuff him, but her reflexive need to stop his negativity had her slapping him across the face. The pain that radiated from her palm was satisfying, delivering all of the pain she felt from his absence in one blow. “You will be a good father. Do you know why?”

Niles looked to her, wide-eyed, as he touched his reddening cheek.

“You taught me how to care, Niles,” Beruka said. “You taught me how to smile, to laugh, to love. If I can, so can our child. Why?” She touched a hand to her stomach. “Because if I can learn, so can them. They’ll love you, Niles, even if you can’t love them back.”

Niles began to shake. “Beruka…” Her words had struck something in him, but the only thing he could do was mutter her name like a mantra. “I…”

“No more, Niles,” Beruka said, seeing his bedraggled state. “Let’s… Let’s just go home.” She offered her hand to him, and despite his hesitation, he took it.

“We’ll make this work,” Beruka reassured him as they made their way off into the night. “I promise.”


End file.
